


Grocery Store AU

by thepoetsdream



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, Blood, Food, Grocery Shopping, Happy Ending, M/M, Mean Customers, Medical, Verbal Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7499508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepoetsdream/pseuds/thepoetsdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mean customer starts yelling at poor cashier Grantaire. Enjolras comes to the rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grocery Store AU

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Les Misérables or the characters I used.
> 
> I wrote this after my own experience with a crabby customer today to make myself feel better. 
> 
> As always, let me know if something needs to be changed or tagged.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

“Maybe I can speak with someone more competent,” the woman yelled at Grantaire, waving the bag of carrots, “who will actually be able to help me.”

Grantaire felt his face flush as the lady continued screaming at him, drawing all eyes to his register. He was seconds away from bursting into tears, while the woman being checked out was still crying about the extra ten cent charge on her bag of carrots, accusing him of purposefully being unhelpful, and calling him horrendous names.

“Ma’am—” the person behind her in line was trying to draw her attention, and doing so, drew Grantaire’s as well.

A beautiful angel stood behind this devil, looking at the woman with disdain. His striking blue eyes were filled with anger, except, unlike the women’s who were directed at Grantaire, his angry eyes were focused on her.

“Leave him alone,” the angel said, voice just as angry as his eyes.

“Mind your own damn business!” The woman hissed at the blond, working herself up even further.

“No,” the angel exclaimed, looking indignantly at her. Grantaire wished he would just drop it; it wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before. “He’s doing what he can do. He does not have the power to cater to your every whim, so you need to calm down and stop screaming.”

Grantaire watched in slow motion as the lady lunged at the blond, her fist connecting with a resolute crack at his face. They squabbled for about two seconds before the security guard was on the lady.

Where was he when she was screaming at me, Grantaire thought bitterly, helping the angel to his feet, reaching behind the counter to grab a towel for his bleeding nose.

“Thank you,” Grantaire told him, tilting his head back to stop the blood. He said something in response, but the towel and pressure on his nose made it impossible to make out.

“What was that?” Grantaire asked, trying not to smile.

“She shouldn’t have said those things to you,” he said, pulling the towel off for a minute to speak.

“Yeah, well…” Grantaire trailed off, turning off the light on his register while they waited for the police to come.

He saw the blond angel frown at that, but didn’t say anything.

Finally the police showed up, and after a handful of questions, the blond (who Grantaire learned was named Enjolras) was free to go, while Grantaire was free to finish off the final fifteen minutes of his shift.

“You should probably call someone to take you home,” Grantaire suggested, looking at the bruises that littered his swollen face. He nodded and stepped away, making a call quickly before heading back to Grantaire’s register. He picked up his basked from where it lay off to the side and got back in line, waiting to check out. By the time he got to Grantaire, his shift was over. He switched off his light, and seeing the disappointment in Enjolras’s eyes, called back a “you’re fine,” to keep him in his lane.

Grantaire almost laughed as he saw the items in his basket: a large tub of coffee, a bottle of creamer to go with the coffee, and a dozen packages of instant rice.

“Quite the meal you’ve got there,” Grantaire joked. Enjolras looked embarrassed, but held his ground.

“Just let me punch out quickly,” Grantaire said, pulling out his till from the register, “I’ll wait for your ride with you.”

A couple minutes later, and Grantaire was lighting a cigarette, leaning against the side of the building.

He snubbed it out when a car pulled up right next to them, and a girl stepped out. Grantaire’s heart sank. It had been silly of him to develop a crush, especially on someone who was apparently straight.

“Ferre’s going to be pissed,” were the first words that came out of her mouth as she walked up to them.

Enjolras grimaced. “This is my sister, Cosette.”  
Cosette introduced herself to Grantaire, and he returned the favor. His heart soared slightly when he realized she was just his sister, but it dropped at the mention of this ‘Ferre’. He already had a boyfriend.

“I’ll be in the car,” Cosette said, giving Enjolras a look before turning back to Grantaire, “It was nice meeting you.”

“My roommate’s going to kill me so I need to get back, but if you aren’t busy tomorrow, would you want to get dinner?” He said it all in one breath. He was nervous, that much was obvious, and he clearly wanted to get it out as quickly as possible.

Grantaire smiled, “As long as it’s not instant rice.”

***

Enjolras quietly opened the door, trying not to alert Combeferre to his presence.

“What happened?” The voice immediately at his side let him know he failed.

“Got in a fight,” he grunted, starting to feel the full level of pain from his injuries. When he had been with Grantaire, the shock had been too much to feel the pain, until now.

He heard the sigh, and the shuffling to get him an ice pack, before making him take a seat.

“Do I need to call Joly?” Combeferre asked, examining his face.

Enjolras shook his head. Combeferre sighed again.

“What happened?” he asked again, this time, not leaving until he got an answer.

“The lady in front of me was being rude to the cashier. I told her to calm down and she punched me,” Enjolras said, leaning his head back to put the ice pack further on his nose.

“Jesus,” Combeferre said, pulling the ice pack off slightly to get a better look at the extent of his injuries. “How many times?”

“I’m not sure,” Enjolras answered honestly, the few seconds of fighting being to much of a blur to fully recount what had happened.

Combeferre pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything else. They both knew if he had been in that position, he would have responded the same way.

“I also asked the cashier on a date,” Enjolras added quickly, blushing under the attention.

Combeferre raised his eyebrows.

“And he said yes,” Enjolras said, trying to stopped the grin spreading across his face.

Combeferre smiled.


End file.
